Book 1: The Struggle of Gods
by Reikas Farowkas
Summary: Zephyr, a teenage human, is struggling with his past. He cant seem to find out why his parents were taken from him at such a young age. Troubled, he consults the gods, who send him on an adventure of epic proportions in order to understand why.
1. The Gods Story

**The God's Story**

Formless... There was no world... Only Emanon...

Emanon, the god creator, had a gift. The gift to create new life from nothingness. The power to create a paradise at the touch of his hand. The power to control all things.

Unfortunately, Emanon needed to use his power from a source, so he took the power of the Absolute. An undying energy that could only be handled by Emanon himself. What Emanon did not know, was that the absolute had an existing conscience. After shaping the world, the Absolute was angered. It did not want to manifest itself into a new paradise, and had began to drain Emanon of his strength. At that, Emanon had embraced his fate and used the power of the Absolute to destroy himself, but Emanon was so powerful that the pieces of his body that had fallen to the paradise had shaped into new gods. Each had a remnant of Emanon. Aera, Poseadas, Mercurus, Pyra, Mortus, Ceassius, Villicas, Mjorra, Sjorra, and Raveran were the biggest pieces that fell to the paradise, but there were thousands of others that are still unknown to even gods.

Once Emanon was split into pieces, the gods had gained the power of whatever part of Emanon they were, but the gods were unaware of what Emanon had created to stay in power. Emanon created the sentient beings that were walking on his paradise. Beings with Absolute power within them called souls. With these souls, the gods could gain power.

The gods grew curious of these souls, so they experimented with them. Once they learned that the sentient being holding the soul could reproduce and die, they became more careful with the sentient beings. Ceassius, the life giver, and Mortus, the life taker, were constantly in fights. Ceassius was doing alot of work by using his power to grant the sentient beings life for generations of generations. Mortus was constantly taking souls with him to the Dream realm and feasting upon the absolute power within them. As Mortus ate the souls, he became more powerful.

Ceassius was angry with mortus. It wasn't fair to him that all the power went to Mortus after Ceassius had stretched his powers. Ceassius wanted a break, so he created prayer and worship. A way for him to become more powerful by having the living souls grant him a portion of their absolute power. Once Mortus heard of such a way to gain power, he felt robbed. Mortus waited for an opportunity to manifest himself on the world, and when he told Villicas, he helped him by distracting the other gods.

The sentient beings were interested in Mortus. They had never seen anything like him before. When they were surrounding him in interest, Mortus drew his blade and slaughtered them. The others fell to their knees in terror as the blood ran like a red river. Mortus spared those who were on their knees and told them to praise him, and he then returned to the Dream realm to feast upon the souls he had just harvested.

When the other gods had returned to their duties, they had seen what had happened to their new believers. Ceassius was horrified. The gods had began investigating on who or what could have done this, but when they asked Mortus about what happened he said he didn't know and that he was being too distracted by Villicas to know what would've happened.

Ceassius became overworked. He was failing in his duty to grant life because he was drained of his energy. He needed Absolute energy.

Mercurus, Aera, Poseadas, and Pyra had came up with a plan to gain back Ceassius's energy. Without Ceassius, there would be no sentient beings to worship _them_, so they each channeled their energy to him. When Ceassius recovered, he went back to creating lives. Something was wrong though, Ceassius wasn't gaining power. A few more days had passed when he realized that the sentients weren't praising him, but were instead praising Mortus.

Ceassius flew into a rage, and manifested himself upon the world. He was so angry that fire bled from his mouth and nose. As earth flew into the sky from his claws, he called mortus out from hiding.

"Mortus! Manifest yourself before me, or face eternal obliteration!"

Mortus heard his call, and manifested on the world before Ceassius.

"Ceassius! You fool! Do you not know the power beyond this manifestation?"

They glared at each other for a minute before Ceassius called upon Raveran for his blessing in battle, and asked Raveran to host the battle of the gods. Raveran accepted this duty and asked them what their incentives for battle were.

"If I am to defeat Mortus, the god of death, then I want to own his entitlement to the power he already posesses. In effect, he will lose his power to take any more lives."

Mortus thought for a moment.

"If I am to lose to this _creton,_ I will gladly accept his request for the spoils of our little war. If I succeed in defeating my enemy, I wish to keep my power and be granted enslavement of my enemy for as long as I am a god. I also wish to gain his power as he would take from me."

Ceassius thought about the consequences of his loss. Raveran suggested he come to a better agreement, but Ceassius had accepted before Raveran could persuade him. On the eve of battle, Ceassius wished the blessing of Raveran to be bestowed upon him. Mortus began to laugh.

"Do you honestly think that the blessing of a _coward_ and the might of a _fool_ can defeat me?"

Ceassius replied, "If a coward and a fool are against a traitorous wretch... I would side with the coward and the fool."

Raveran chose the location in which the battle would take place. The Circle Fields of the Mortal realm was the begging location of the Great Battle. The battle parameters stretched all the way into the Ascended realm if necessary.

Once the gods had reached the starting grounds, the battle had begun. Ceassius flew high into the sky as he rained down fire from the heavens. Mortus shook off the fires burn as if it was an every day occurence and lunged his sword into the sky.

Scalebreaker, Mortus' sword, had plunged itself deep into Ceassius body. With a loud cry, Ceassius fell back to earth. The sword had extracted itself from Ceassius into Mortus' hand.

"That's a vile weapon! One could only be made from the deaths of many!" cried Ceassius.

"More deaths than you could count."

"Then tell me..."

"Tell you what?"

"How many lives did it take exactly?"

"Enough to cause the waters of this earth to turn red with blood."

Ceassius had heard enough. He stood back up, and flew into the sky again. Mortus jumped after him, but paused before attacking.

"Mortus!" Ceassius roared. "This is just the beggining!"

Three days had passed. It was a constant battle between the two gods. Mountains were formed and destroyed over and over by the effects of the battle. New rivers and lakes formed, and many other affects had taken place among the terrain.

Finally, on the last day of the battle, Ceassius had defeated Mortus. He picked up Mortus' body and proceeded to open a portal to the Dream realm.

"Mortus! Return from where you have come, and NEVER return!"

As the words were spoken, Mortus fell. The portal had then closed in an explosive flash of light. Mortus was locked away in the Dream realm forever, forced to guide souls to Mjen and Mjall. Ceassius had gained his power and healed himself along with the rest of the damage done. This included the restoration of the sentients due to the slaughter.

Mortus had gone insane with anger. He bacame driven by it, and slowly became consumed over time. He cursed Ceassius' name, and he swore vengeance upon the world.

This battle not only marked the end of Mortus' reign, but also marked the begging of a civil war among the gods. The hundreds of other pieces of Emanon that fell to the world were becoming hostile to eatch other for power, fighting over souls. Thus marked the formation of the Legion. A group of the most powerful gods headed by Ceassius, whose purpose was to strip all lesser gods of their powers. Godkin became the result of this. A gift to those who were once gods, which included the power to pray directly.

Long since has this story been told. It is now an ancient history. Although you may just be hearing it today, but ever since then, nothing has came to be. There hasn't been any signs that there is a conflict. The gods still commune with us today, and are just as they once were. None have dared to question, "What comes next?"


	2. Chapter 1: The Way of Life

Chapter One: The Way of Life

Zephyr awoke with a startle as he heard the repeated slamming of swords and torches into the side of the house. The mercenaries were calling out to his parents. He could hear the horses neigh, and the men sigh.

Carliah, Zephyr's mother, ran into his dark room sobbing. She scared him so much that he began to cry as well. She picked him up, and repeatedly told him to hush as she hid him away inside the closet and covered him with a blanket.

"Mommy, whats wrong?" cried Zephyr.

She didn't answer. She kissed him on the forehead and closed the closet door.

"Stay in there until I get you!"

She left Zephyr and headed out his room entrance.

Zephyr was scared, but he pulled together and listened to the men standing around outside the house. Zephyr could hear his father, Faerndis. He peered through the slats on his closet doors out to the window where he could see his father and the men talking.

A bald man with a three scars running down his head was standing infront of them. He carried a shortsword that glistened with a golden handle. In the mans hand was an awkwardly shaped stiletto. It was spiked inward all along the blade on one side.

"You are overdue on your payment!" shouted the man.

"Please, spare us a few more days! We will have your money in a day or two! We need more ti-"

Zephyr saw the mans stiletto rip across his fathers throat. He threw the blanket back up over his head and began to cry and shake. The only thing Zephyr could hear after that was his mother's screams. Those too had died out over time.

"Search the house!" shouted the man.

The front door was kicked down. Men were ravaging the house and breaking furniture, searching for anything that could be valuable. One of the men walked into Zephyr's room. The man looked around and spotted the closet. Zephyr froze and kept the blanket over his head. The closet door opened slowly.

Zephyr peered through the small pattern in his blanket and stared at the mercenary infront of him. The man looked down at Zephyr. He seemed shocked at first, then his eyes became glassy and Zephyr could see them reflecting from the light of the torch.

"Found anything yet?" shouted another man from another room.

"Nothing in here!" shouted the mercenary as he closed the closet doors.

Zephyr sighed from holding his breath. He looked out the window again, but the man with the scars was standing there. His gaze piercing through the closet door and right into Zephyr. He looked down and began to shake with fear, taking small peeks to see if the man saw him.

One of the mercenaries walked up to the bald man and began to speak in his ear. They both nodded, and the mercenaries began to mount their horses. One of the mercenaries shouted to the man with the scars.

"Azruhmak, what are your orders?"

Azruhmak turned to the man. "Burn it."

With loud battle cries, the mercenaries threw their torches onto the house and rode off. Azruhmak had left with them. Zephyr sat in the closet crying.

Smoke began to swirl around Zephyr. He coughed and choked on the smell of the burning wood, and his eyes began to water. Throwing open the doors, he fell forward gasping for a clear breath of air. Luckily, all the smoke was bellowing at the top of the house and it was easier to breathe at a lower altitude.

Grabbing the blanket, Zephyr stumbled his way through the house and finally made it to the door. Once he was outside, he could finally breathe pure clean air. He gasped and choked some more until he regained his strength.

Ten feet infront of Zephyr was his father's corpse. His mother's was next to his father's. With great sorrow, he trudged his way over to them and laid inbetween them. He laid there and cried for what seemed to be ages, recalling all the stories his mother told him when he was very little.

His favorite was The Way of Life. A story about a man that becomes an animal and learns their way of life. His favorite part was where the man realizes that humans are no longer his friend because he is being hunted.

Zephyr felt that way. He felt hunted. He felt that humans were no longer his friends. He felt alone.

That morning, Zephyr got up and searched what was left of the house. He looked inside and around, but everything was burned. He opened the sealed bookcase and to his surprise, none of the books had been harmed. He took the book with his favorite stories in it and left the house.

There was no sense in staying at his house anymore, since it was practically burned to the ground. Unable to dig graves for his parents because of his lack of strength, Zephyr made stone piles at the head of his parents corpses. After he finished with the headstones, he cried and wordshipped Ceassius for the life he still had, and then began to walk down the road. There was an inn that he could make it to before nightfall if he walked nonstop, so he did.

The sun was setting when he entered the inn. He sat and rubbed his feet from walking so much. The inn was crowded and he sat in the corner. The barmaiden walked up to him and snarled if he wanted anything to eat.

"Soup. Soup would be nice," said Zephyr.

"Awfully young to be coimin in here by yourself dontcha think?" snapped the barmaiden.

Zephyr thought a minute. If he said anything to the barmaiden about his parents dying, she would send him straight to the authorities and they would put him in an orphanage. He didn't want that. He didn't like the thought of being put up for adoption.

"My father is meeting me here," Zephyr replied with a pant.

The barmaiden shrugged and walked off the the kitchen. Zephyr fell back in his seat. He bagan to read his books while he waited for his soup. One of the books he didn't remember grabbing. It was small and green with a symbol that was circular with points coming off the circle. He opened it to find that it was not a book, but an empty container.

When his soup arrived at his table, the barmaiden looked around again. She had a stern look.

"Where did you say your father was?" she snarled again.

Zephyr began to panic.

"H-He went outside. Takin a piss yaknow,"

She glanced around as if she could see out the window.

"Alright," she said and she went off into the kitchen again.

Zephyr knew he was in trouble. He had no money to pay for the services. He quickly got up and left the inn. Once he made it out the door he hid in the ditch on the other side of the road and waited.

A few minutes later the barmaiden came hustling outside and shouted down the road as if someone was there.

" You little brat! I'll get you for this!" she screamed.

Zephyr waited for the stressed woman to return to the inn. Once she was inside, he picked up his things and began his journey down the road, thanking Ceassius that he still had his scalp. He was headed for the city of Guildar, and it would be a total of 3 days on horseback. Unfortunately, he never saw the gaud that was tailing him from the inn.


	3. Chapter 2: The Long Road

Chapter Two: The Long Road

Zephyr's feet were beginning to blister inside his boots. He was growing weary of walking. Sitting down, He pulled off his boots and began to rub his feet. The road before him was long and he knew he couldn't be stopping at every turn.

Standing back up, he looked down the path he had just traveled. He caught a glimmer in his eyes of the sun reflecting off a piece of metal. Thats when he realized, he was being followed.

Zephyr jumped into the ditch and covered himself with surrounding brush, and then he waited. He waited until he could hear the clanking of pots and a heavily breathing person walking past his hiding spot. Thats when the unexpected happened. Zephyr saw it was a kid walking past him. A heavyset kid, which explained why he was breathing so heavily, but the kid stopped and sat down in pain.

"Must've lost 'im," grunted the kid.

_Now is my chance to attack._ Thought Zephyr as he lay in ambush. A few seconds later, he sprang his attack and tackled the kid on the road.

"What in the hell?" exclaimed the kid on the road. "Get offa me you dumbass!"

Zephyr's failed attempt of attack brought a slight redness to his face. The heavyset kid absorbed all his blows and simply rolled over onto Zephyr. There Zephyr sat, spread out on the ground and flattened by a mass of flesh.

"What the hells the big idea?" screamed the kid.

"Why were you following me? I thought you were going to try and kill me or something?"

"What?"

Zephyr pushed the kid off his body so he could breathe. The kid stood up and looked at Zephyr. He then offered a hand to help him up. He accepted and they both stood in the middle of the road.

"So why were you following me?"

"I saw you back at the inn. I saw everything. I saw how you were checking your bags for money but instead you ran for it. I saw you jump in the ditch and hide as you escaped that lady's backhand. She had it out for you after that! Man it was quite funny, everyone began talkin about you!"

"So what? You gonna report me to the authority so you can collect your lousy bounty or something?"

"Of course not! I wanted to see if you were looking for partners and maybe I could show you a trick or two!"

The kid had an overall sense of happiness inside of him. He was almost too cheery.

"Whats your name, kid?" Zephyr said in a low raspy tone.

"Im Ketzal! Whats your name?"

"Zephyr."

"Cool name!"

"Same to you."

They both began to walk together. The clanging of pots would've given away their position to anything hunting them, but Zephyr was ok. He figured that as long as he stayed on the road, he wouldn't have any harm come his way. He remembered his parents used to tell him tales of what would happen to people who didn't stay on the road.

"So where are your parents?" Zephyr asked bluntly.

"I dont have any," replied Ketzal just as blunt as the question.

"What? That's terrible!"

"Ha! Are you kidding? I used to travel with a band of mercenaries!"

Zephyr froze in his tracks. He turned and looked at Ketzal. They met eye to eye and stared for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" asked Ketzal.

"These mercs you traveled with..."

"Yea?"

"... Was there a man with a bald head and three scars on his face?"

Ketzal began to think about it. Then after a moment of pondering, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the sky. Zephyr began to clam up.

"Come to think of it, there was a guy that hired our troop to burn a house, but that was an easy task. We were ordered to ransack it first. I stayed on my horse and watched. After that, the man payed us and we celebrated at the inn."

Zephyr stood there with clenched fists, feeling the cold breeze as it blew by and ruffled his clothes. Tears began to roll down his face. He felt like punching something.

"Hey, did I say somethi-"

Zephyr punched Ketzal right in his mouth. Ketzal stumbled back and fell on his ass. Zephyr pushed him to the ground and towered over him. He grabbed his collar and looked him in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you are a part of! Do you have any sense at all! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE FUCKING GONE THROUGH!"

Ketzal's mouth dripped blood, and he began to bruise. He stared Zephyr right in his eyes. His fists began to clench.

"Don't even FUCKING think about it," Zephyr yelled in his face.

Ketzal's fists relieved, then clenched again.

"Do you know what I've always wanted?" asked Ketzal calmly.

Zephyr's eyes narrowed, but Ketzal still stared blankly into his face.

"I always wanted a family that cared."

Zephyr let go of his collar, and widened his eyes. He dropped his gaurd. At that moment, Ketzal punched Zephyr in the side of his head, knocked him over, and stood up. He walked over to Zephyr and kneeled beside him.

"My father and mother hated me," he whispered.

"My father was an abusive drunk and my mother was an addict. One day they both agreed that I was the reason for their suffering, and they beat me until I was coughing blood. That night, when I awoke from my head trauma, I found myself in the basement. Looking for a light, I found none but the fireplace light peering through the door. After a gruesome climb up the stairs, I opened the door. My parents were passed out, and I could easily maneuver without being detected. I grabbed the knife from the kitchen and slit my father's throat. I did the same to my mother. I was so angry I blacked out. When I woke up again, I was in a pool of blood surrounded by body parts in the basement."

Zephyr laid on the ground. He was angrier than before. He wanted to kill Ketzel for pretending to be innocent to his parent's murders.

"So what? You're a sick bastard and you killed my family."

"Did I? As I recall, I sat on my horse and watched two people get slaughtered, and then watched as the mercenaries I was riding with lit the house on fire. I don't remember you ever being there."

"I was there! My mother hid me away inside the closet!"

"See? You _did _have parents that cared. Maybe you should be more thankful that you even had them in the first place."

Zephyr started to shed silent tears. A few sniffles followed shortly after. He got back up to his feet and stared into the field beside the road.

Deep inside himself, Zephyr truly felt sorry for Ketzal. Unfortunately, he could never forgive him for letting something like that happen to his family. From that moment on, He knew it was going to be long road to Guildar.


	4. Chapter 3: Guildar

Author's Note: Not every chapter will have a massive word count. This is because my book is separated by points made. This is how the story will be written. Points made per chapter. Keep your minds open to see what ALL the points of a chapter may be. One can have several points of view.

Chapter Three: Guildar

The road was too long. When Zephyr and Ketzel finally arrived in Guildar, they were damp with sweat and had ice forming on their bodies. Looking for the inn, they trudged the streets of Guildar.

Guildar was a theives den. The unfortunate and the rats dwelled together in the alleys. Unfortunately, the people in the alleys were more guilty of theivery and were not beggars. They didn't have the pride to beg for a scrap of food that could possibly save the from starvation. They would rather steal it.

Ketzal tapped Zephyr on the shoulder and pointed at an inn. It was the biggest inn Zephyr had ever seen. Its name was "The Clover".

Once inside the inn, Ketzal had found the barmaid. Zephyr immediately sensed trouble once they were inside. There were alot of people. More than the amount of people back at the nameless inn near Zephyr's former house.

"Excuse me," said Ketzal. "We are a few traveling Borhakians looking for shelter. Could we rent a room?"

"Yea, It'll cost you ten of whatever is valuable to you."

"Well, aren't _you_ a theiving bastard! Give me a straight price or I'll take my friend and myself to the inn across the street!"

"Hold on, no need to be hasty. Its ten silver pieces. Your room is the double suite, second door to the right."

"Ketzal," whispered zephyr.

"Hold on a second, Im tryin to talk here."

Zephyr kept peering over his shoulder. There was a man in the corner of the inn with a black hood. He was staring at Zephyr and Ketzal like they were pigs that just walked into the slaughter. His spine tingled.

"Thank you sir, we will pay you in the morn!" shouted Ketzal. "Come on Zeph! We got a place to warm up and sleep tonight!"

Zephyr followed Ketzal to the room. Once they were inside Zephyr felt relief wash over him. He threw off his shirt and stripped off his pants. He laid them out to dry on the floor. Ketzal did the same, but Ketzal pulled out string and a hammer from his pack.

Ketzal hammered the string into one side of the room and then the other. He threw his pants and shirt up onto the string. Zephyr followed his action. They both grabbed towels from the pack and dried themselves off from the rain.

"Did you see that guy in the bar?" asked Zephyr.

"What guy, there were alot of guys," replied Ketzal.

"The guy in the corner, he had a black hood and he was staring us down like a hawk to a mouse."

"No worries," said Ketzal. "Ive got plenty of this rope to lock the door down. We're safe."

Zephyr climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up close to his chin. It was nice to be back in a bed, even if it wasn't his own. Ketzal had finished with tying the knob of the door to a nail in the wall, and he too climbed into his bed. Zephyr extinguished the candle. Before long, he was asleep, but something woke him. He could hear the doorknob clicking. Sitting up, he could see the doorknob starting to turn and then snapping back.

"Ketzal," Zephyr whispered.

"Shhh!"

The door kept clicking, but then it all ended with a loud _SNAP!_ There was silence again. Someone on the other side of the door was cursing at their bad luck. _How ironic_, thought Zephyr. _An inn named the clover, but bad luck is abroad._

Ketzal began to chuckle, "Fool can't pick a lock properly."


End file.
